


Due South-East

by threewalls



Category: Yami No Matsuei, due South
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Bureaucracy, Case Fic, Crack, Giant Demon Cats, M/M, Partnership, Substitution, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-12-31
Updated: 2006-01-25
Packaged: 2017-10-15 15:28:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/162238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/threewalls/pseuds/threewalls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><cite>My name is CPA Tatsumi Seiichirou. I first came to Meifu on the trail of the killer of my mother and for reasons that do not need exploring at this juncture, I have remained attached as a liaison with the Accounting Division, and over the course of my time here I have acted as backup for the person that I am currently looking for, one Tsuzuki Asato, Shinigami, Summoning Division."</cite></p><p>(Fusion with Due South: "Burning Down the House", 3x01)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written with thanks to lynndyre, olympia_m and kata_elf.

Tatsumi could not put aside the uneasiness he had felt since Tsuzuki's incoherent phone conversation eight hours before. Tsuzuki had been ostensibly agitated about not completing his paperwork in time for Tatsumi's return, insisting that beyond that everything was completely fine. Tatsumi had wanted to believe him, but prior experience made him make arrangements to leave his vacation lodgings as soon as the hostess began serving breakfast at seven forty-five.

It was now closer to noon. The couple who ran the boarding house Tsuzuki lived in had assured Tatsumi that Tsuzuki had gone to work that morning. However, now that Tatsumi was at the office, he discovered that Tsuzuki was not easy to find. He was not in the break room. Nor was he apparently on a case, according to the office noticeboard. Tatsumi had questioned several of his colleagues, and while they had given him sensible suggestions as to where Tsuzuki might be found, there was something in their manner that suggested his unease was merited.

Tatsumi knocked on the door of Konoe's office before entering and closing the door behind him. Konoe was removing manila folders from a filing cabinet, but he turned when Tatsumi announced himself.

"Sir."

"CPA. You've returned. Three days early, I see, and not a day too soon."

Konoe stacked the files he had removed into a pile, which he placed onto Tatsumi's instinctively held out arms.

"Thank you, Sir. You haven't seen Tsuzuki-san, have you?"

Konoe shut the filing cabinet and looked up at him carefully. "Ah. Tatsumi, there's something I have to--"

Suddenly, Torii appeared by Konoe's elbow. "Kachou, Terazuma-san has transformed in practice dojo three and there's a woman downstairs from the Peace Protection Bureau that says she has to speak with you!"

"Peace Protection? Fine." Konoe didn't look pleased, but he placed one last folder on top of Tatsumi's pile and started walking out. Over his shoulder, he called out: "Tatsumi, I have to take care of all this, but we have to talk."

When Tatsumi returned the bullpen, there was someone sitting at Tsuzuki's desk. For a moment, the hunched black trenchcoat fooled him and he called out Tsuzuki's name.

The man, however, was not Tsuzuki. He was blond, inescapably so, and wore glasses, but it was the unaffected, if slightly wild grin on his face that assured Tatsumi that this could not be Tsuzuki, not even in a remarkably well constructed disguise. Tsuzuki had never looked so happy to see him. Tsuzuki had never leapt up from his desk, flung his arm across Tatsumi's shoulders and asked him about his vacation, while steering him through the bullpen to the windows. Perhaps if he had, their relationship would have fared far differently.

Someone had apparently told this man that Tatsumi had been staying at a ryokan in Nagasaki, and this led to the five minute tangential exposition on the fact that he disliked traditional garments like yukata because pockets were the greatest invention since instant ramen and yukata never matched the number of pockets a western-style coat might have. Not to mention, he confessed, he was used to more streamlined clothing.

Glancing over the collar of the trenchcoat, Tatsumi noticed that the man was wearing jeans and a black top that looked like it was made of leather. He swallowed.

"I'm sorry. There seems to be some sort of misunderstanding. I'm looking for Tsuzuki Asato."

The strange man nodded agreeably. His arm was still over Tatsumi's shoulders but it wasn't making either of them stoop. This man was taller than Tsuzuki, then, possibly as tall or taller than Tatsumi himself. For some reason, that incidental fact seemed very important.

"Tsuzuki Asato. The Shinigami."

"You've talked to Konoe this morning, right?" the man asked, his voice suddenly soft and low in Tatsumi's ear.

Tatsumi answered promptly that he had, unsure what bearing that had on his search. The man let him go, turning around to face him, the trenchcoat swirling around his legs.

"Good, we understand each other. I'm glad you're back, Tatsumi. Things haven't been the same around here without you."

This seemed to be stating the painfully obvious and Tatsumi said as much.

"And you'd like to know why?"

"If that's possible."

"I spent this morning buried in paperwork. You would not believe how many forms -- well, you probably won't since most of them have a space near the bottom for your signature."

Kirigoe walked past them towards her desk. "Tatsumi, you found him. Great."

"All morning, Tatsumi, hunched over my desk. Mission reports from all the way back to the end of last quarter, in triplicate, by hand because they have to be originals, apparently, and this office only has one typewriter between sixteen agents. I've got to do something about that!"

"Hey, Tsuzuki-chan," Fukiya called out from the doorway to the office, waving wildly. "Can I plait your hair?"

"Only if you let me dress you in something that isn't pink tomorrow," the impostor called back, continuing blithely. "I've got a crick in my neck and cramps in my right hand, not to mention ink stains, but I finished them all about an hour ago and I've just been walking the halls since then, trying to get my legs to not hate me quite so much. So, you see where I need you, right?"

Tatsumi was afraid that he could see exactly where this man with bright eyes and brighter hair might need him, but instead he said very carefully that he did not understand how he could be of assistance. It was unfair that, like the rest of the office, his libido was responding to this impostor exactly as it had done for Tsuzuki. (It was the sunlight streaming through the windows-- not even with bleach and dye could one achieve a hair colour so close to the sheen of bullion.)

"Konoe won't me take field cases without backup. No firepower, you see."

At least that made a modicum of sense. Tatsumi didn't believe that Tsuzuki's shikigami would believe that this imposter was Tsuzuki, either, though they would be unlikely to be as restrained in their disbelief as Tatsumi was managing to be. The shadows, scant though they currently were considering the time of day, seemed to bristle by their feet.

"Who are you?" Tatsumi asked.

The man frowned, briefly, before rolling his eyes and reaching out to push against Tatsumi's shoulder lightly. "Is this a game, Tatsumi? You know who I am."

Tatsumi decided that this charade had gone on long enough. "I'm sorry. I'm not sure what you hope to gain from this elaborate pretence, but I'm very sure that you and I have never met. My name is CPA Tatsumi Seiichirou. I first came to Meifu on the trail of the killer of my mother and for reasons that do not need exploring at this juncture (namely that Tatsumi himself had administered that fatal dosage), I have remained attached as a liaison with the Accounting Division, and over the course of my time here I have acted as backup for the person that I am currently looking for, one Tsuzuki Asato, Shinigami, Summoning Division."

The man pointed at himself and repeated: "Tsuzuki Asato, Shinigami, Summoning Division. Everyone else here knows who I am, Tatsumi, what about you?"

They looked at each other steadily for several minutes while the rest of the office continued its regular chaos. Finally, the other man looked down and picked up the top folder from the pile that Tatsumi had carried from Konoe's office.

"Moriyana Yamane. 64. Nobeoka." The man read very quickly. "She's a cat lady," he concluded. "She probably just needs to find good homes for them before she's willing to move on."

It occurred to Tatsumi that he had not asked what this man did, magically speaking, but that line of questioning would obviously be as welcome as his inquiries after his real name. Tatsumi sent an order to some of the shadows associated with the lining of the man's trenchcoat to keep him informed of physical threats. The shadows shifted restlessly once more, and Tatsumi calmly suggested they humour the imposter for the time being.

"Let me know if anything happens," he told the man.

"Of course, but this is easy money. I'll be back by five."

The man placed the file back on the pile, jumped up in the air and then, suddenly, disappeared.


	2. Chapter 2

The afternoon passed relatively uneventfully. Tatsumi reviewed the paperwork that had piled up in his two-week enforced vacation. There was a pile of low-priority correspondence for Tatsumi to compose replies to on Konoe's behalf, as well as a much smaller pile addressed to Tatsumi himself. There was a memo from Konoe requesting briefings for a number of cases that seemed problematic or ambiguous. And, of course, there were the financial reports associated with cases that had been closed during his absence, or in Tsuzuki's case, reports that had been _filed_ during his absence.

Tatsumi had not been expected to return for another several days, so he could take his pick and he chose to review Tsuzuki's cases as there was a surprising wealth of material from which to work. Whomever the man claiming to be Tsuzuki actually was, he had not lied about the amount of paperwork he completed that morning.

He also checked in with the man at one o'clock, and again at two, at which point the man pointed out that Tatsumi's sudden communications via his wristwatch made him particularly noticeable as the technology would not be available commercially in the mortal realm for perhaps a decade and honestly, unless Tatsumi wanted a kitten, there wasn't anything for him to contribute to the case.

Tatsumi refused to believe that he was going mad. Tsuzuki never made pointed, sarcastic comments and never refused his help, however admittedly pointless it was at times. This man was not Tsuzuki.

"I hope they're paying you for this."

Tatsumi's mother did not work for the summoning division, and, in fact, was not listed as an employee for any division of the government. Her file wasn't sealed; it didn't exist. She did not cast a reflection (which she bemoaned whenever she remembered that fact) or a shadow (which Tatsumi had bemoaned more quietly on several other occasions). The rest of the division quite legitimately could not discern her presence, though Kannuki sometimes glanced curiously in her direction.

"Good afternoon, mother."

Tatsumi rose from his chair and offered it to his mother. She sat with her knees up against her chest, piling the hem of her kimono up over her feet so that it would not brush the floor. As it always was, her hair was a mess, long enough to sit on were it not snarled like snakes. Among the many things, he wanted to comb it, but suppressed the urge with practiced restraint. His mother's obsession with being properly attended had not left her with her death. He was her son, her only son, and she would refuse him.

"What are you going to do about the peasant?" she asked.

"Do you have a suggestion?"

His mother leaned forward over her knees, gesturing with a finger pointed at him. "You need to find proof that he is not who he says he is."

"I shall try," Tatsumi answered, as though the idea had not already occurred to him.

"Once you have proof, you can blackmail him," she told him cheerfully, "and finally buy me some servants."

Something caught her eye just then, and Tatsumi realised too late that Konoe had left a half drunk cup of tea at his desk. His mother's face became ugly and her hands became grasping claws. She and Tatsumi moved for the cup at the same instant, but she tangled in her kimono and his legs were longer. Tatsumi quickly poured the cold tea into a pot plant, wishing he knew how to ease her suffering. It was poor manners, but the time-proved alternative was watching his mother vainly try to drink as her throat closed up, as the liquid burnt away when it touched her lips.

He waited a moment before turning back, composing himself. When he did, she was gone and he found Terazuma standing in the office doorway instead, smirking.

"Hn. I guess a vacation didn't cure you of weird."

"Can I help you, Terazuma-san?"

Tatsumi's tone of voice had its intended effect. Terazuma's smirk vanished and he looked down and away, holding out a few pages of very large, very carefully printed text.

"Kannuki said you'd want a collateral damage report before I left. I know it’s only one copy, but, geez, Tatsumi, the typewriter's jammed and it's after five. I wanna go home."

It was, nearly a quarter past, according to the wall clock. Tatsumi had been so immersed in Tsuzuki's receipts and his mother's always distracting conversation that he had forgotten the time. Tsuzuki's case should have been completed an hour or two ago. It was possible this Tsuzuki was as tardy as the original, but it behooved Tatsumi to discover whether he was wasting company time, had absconded as mysteriously as he had appeared or, however unlikely, he was incapacitated beyond his ability to return to Meifu.

Tatsumi dismissed Terazuma (who left eagerly), returned to his desk to tidy it and grabbed his coat. In transit, he reached out to the shadows he had sent with the impostor. The impostor was not in danger, the shadows related, but still in Nobeoka.

'Not in danger' turned out to be hovering in mid-air over a city park, several cats circling beneath him. They were clearly demonic, as they were the size of small cars, their eyes shining like brilliant green headlights when they caught the dull light of streetlamps.

Faced with this new information, the shadows suggested they hadn't understood his instructions clearly because the lighting hadn't been all one could wish in the bullpen. Tatsumi suggested pointedly that they fan out and survey the park for innocent bystanders, obstacles and of course, the cats, which the shadows then did and if they were sulking, Tatsumi did not deign to notice.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With thanks to lynndyre, because she can write fight scenes.

The first thing the blond said to Tatsumi when he spotted him was, "I was just about to call you," as he moved his watch away from his mouth. "Moriyana-san was fine once I explained things. So were her cats, well, except those four down there who really didn't like her leaving."

"Moriyana-san has moved on? You are certain?" Tatsumi asked.

"They all looked like normal cats until she passed, then, well, what you see down there. I figured we shouldn’t let demons wander the neighbourhood even if we got the soul we were after, but they're a bit beyond me. My coat's still down there somewhere," he added, though his tone was more rueful than upset, even as he rubbed up and down his bare arms.

A small turtle flew over and alighted on his shoulder, scrabbling for purchase with its flippers. He moved the animal to the top of his head, an arrangement that apparently suited them both. Perhaps Tatsumi would ask later, perhaps not. For now, there were demons to destroy.

"How long have you been up here?"

"Hmm, the flying? An hour or two. Out of curiosity, how long should I be able to? No one even told me I could."

"If you haven't done it before, not much longer." Tatsumi looked below them, scanning the park for tell-tale moving shapes while he filtered the sensory information the shadows were providing him into a dynamically changing map of the park and its inhabitants.

"That would explain the fatigue," the blond said, thoughtfully. "I wonder if--"

He abruptly dropped through a foot of air before catching himself.

"I guess flitting back to Meifu is out, too, then. Suggestions, fearless secretary?"

Tatsumi could direct the shadows from their current height, but he wouldn't be able to bear the other man's weight when he tired. He didn't dare leave-- who knew what these demons were capable of? For now, at least, he and Tsuzuki were the centre of the cats' attention.

"Now I kill them."

Tatsumi dropped to the ground, dragging the other man with him, and teleporting about fifteen feet almost immediately after contact as one of the cats bounded toward them.

"Stay right behind me," Tatsumi ordered, perhaps a little too harshly, but the blond's penchant for false confidence and disguised plans was beginning to grate.

Felines were an awkward type to battle, more so because they were unconnected to a single necromancer forcing them to any singular path or activity. As far as Tatsumi could tell, the demons did not see any urgency in taking down the Shinigami, probably certain of their own superior strength.

"...they asked me... to try something else..."

They hunted as a co-ordinated pack, circling round the Shinigami with stealth. They tried to herd the Shinigami into ambushes, which was ineffective so long as Tatsumi could concentrate well enough to locate all four, or then, three remaining creatures. They healed quickly, which meant that any injury that was less than mortal was only wasted effort and it was difficult to orchestrate deathstrokes while still requesting sensory information. Shadows were very simple creatures when one came down to it and conflicting orders, however necessary, were never easy to enforce.

"...the assignments here are never quite what you expect..."

It should have been easier. He had spent the last twelve days of his vacation period training, but none of the scenarios he'd planned for himself had included the additional handicap of transporting another person with him.

"... didn't like... was working on, not anymore... a sanctioned change..."

Beyond that, his passenger had begun babbling rapidly and distractingly in his broad accent, making Tatsumi's concentration that much thinner and, as a result, his control of the shadows that much less.

At a second cat's demise, Tatsumi paused, allowing colour to creep slowly back into his vision.

"...but it didn't really prepare me for working with you."

Tatsumi turned to stare, struck again by the vividness of the blond's hair. "I beg your pardon?"

"Everything I just said, did you hear any of it?"

Tatsumi had heard something, yes, but the shadows' information had taken precedence. He felt rude, which was ridiculous, because the other man should have known better than to be trying to speak at a time like this.

"Manipulating shadows requires a great deal of concentration, even more so to neutralise so many moving targets at the same time."

"Oh. Sorry." The blond shrugged. "Your file didn't have that many specifics."

His file-- when had--? No matter.

"Place a hand on my shoulder," Tatsumi suggested. "It should be easier to keep track of you and hopefully the two remaining demons will be easier than the first two."

He hounded the one cat with shadowy blades while he made equally sure he did not become the other's victim. Only two conflicting sets of instructions were sooner obeyed. With the other man in physical contact with him, Tatsumi could teleport them as one unit, not two, and that was also markedly easier than before.

However, the two remaining demons had learnt from their fellows' demises, shedding the (useless) cover of darkness for pools of light cast by streetlamps and still weaving across each other's paths to confuse his approach. Tatsumi was also getting tired, mental fatigue rather than physical, but equally dangerous. He would persevere, he thought, teleporting yet again.

When the third demon finally fell, Tatsumi pivoted immediately to send everything under his control lashing after the last demon and it exploded wetly, showering a small area with viscous demon gore. This included a very surprised looking blond-haired man holding a torn, dripping trenchcoat. When had he let go?

Tatsumi checked his shoulder and found the blond's small turtle perched there.

"I thought I told you to stay behind me!" Tatsumi shouted as he strode over. He grabbed him firmly by the shoulders-- only to be shaken off and a spiral notebook thrust in his fact.

"My notebook was in my coat. I could have helped!" It was a low growl.

"You could have gotten hurt," Tatsumi replied, pointedly.

There were droplets of blood on the blond's face, some large enough to have begun running down. Tatsumi froze when he realised he was carefully wiping them away, but the other man only grinned.

"I didn't know you cared."

And then he kissed Tatsumi, and apparently, unlike Tsuzuki, the scent of blood didn't bother him because he kissed with gusto and finesse. His forwardness was not like Tsuzuki, either, but Tatsumi found it the most palatable of the inexplicable changes he had been asked to accept that day.

He was slightly breathless when the blond released him, and very confused. Had something like *this* also been in whatever file the blond had read on him? If so, the file was out of date. He and Tsuzuki hadn't..., not for years. If not, did the blond--

Suddenly, the blond cried out and jerked backwards, and then he was moving away from Tatsumi, fast, his neck in the jaws of yet another demon cat.

"Tsuzuki!" Tatsumi called out, already running. The demon made three bounds before the shadows caught up, felling it with a satisfyingly direct series of cuts to vital arteries. Tsuzuki dropped like dead-weight; Tatsumi continued running to his side.

Tsuzuki's top was completely rent across his back but most of the blood running down his body had apparently belonged to the cat; his neck and back had healed. At Tatsumi's hesitant touch, the blond's eyes opened and he twisted an arm behind him to gesture.

"Shinigami do heal," Tatsumi acknowledged, offering the other man a hand up.

Like his face and his back, the skin of the blond's hand was smooth to touch, but Tatsumi didn't allow his thoughts to linger. The kiss had been blissful, unexpected rain after a long drought, but Tatsumi knew from experience nothing good came from following impulses formed in the field.

His shadows informed him that there were now *definitely* no cats left, not within the park, nor under Moriyana's house on the northern border of the park (from which the last had issued). The blond's turtle was swimming leisurely through the air around their heads. The blond himself had his arms folded across his chest and his expression too smug for a man who just had his back clawed open and his head nearly bitten off.

"You called me Tsuzuki."

"No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did."

The blond was crowing.

"No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did."

This was ridiculous.

"It was a mistake."

"You know I'm Tsuzuki."

This was childish.

"You are not Tsuzuki. You don't even look like him."

"I could have dyed my hair, bought contacts, had facial reconstructive surgery--"

This was fun.

"You could also be lying."

"I've got the ID to prove it," he said, wincing almost imperceptibly as he reached for the back pocket of his jeans.

Tatsumi felt himself sway forward slightly and reminded his arms to remain at his sides. "I don't need to see it."

"I'm Tsuzuki."

"If you're Tsuzuki, please tell me why you have a Kanto accent?"

The blond doubled over, wincing, but now with exaggeration. "Oh, it hurts when you get clawed by demon cats."

"I see," Tatsumi said, and though his eyebrows were raised, his eyes were smiling.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to lynndyre, without whom I never would have stretched a crack AU out this long.

Despite the late hour, Konoe was still in his office when they returned to the Diet building. Tatsumi left Tsuzuki picking up a shopping bag from beneath his desk and knocked while opening Konoe's office door.

"Excuse me, Sir. The report I compiled today--"

Konoe was also, Tatsumi discovered, in a conference with a dark-haired person in a dark, leather trenchcoat who was leaning over the desk, one hand poised on a hip. The sight stunned him to silence, his eyes drawn inexplicably along the coat's split to the woman's very brief mini-skirt.

"Shin Kazuma, our new liaison from Peace Protection, meet Tatsumi Seiichirou, our liaison from Accounting. Tatsumi -- Shin." Konoe introduced them.

Shin-san inclined her head in his direction and Tatsumi did likewise, the action concealing his relieved exhale. Not another improbable doppelganger.

"Sir, if I could have just a moment of your time-- It's urgent, I think, but I'll be brief."

Konoe nodded as though this request was expected rather than ill-mannered. He waved the woman out of his office and Tatsumi in. Tatsumi took his report from Konoe's in-tray and re-read the summary on the first page to prepare himself.

Tatsumi's presentation consisted of statistical analysis of the financial information concerning cases Tsuzuki had undertaken before and after Tatsumi's vacation. Tatsumi had never known Tsuzuki to submit an expenses form within his travelling allowance, and yet "Tsuzuki's" most recently submitted cases tallied expenses within the black. Before, expenses labelled "dessert" occurred most frequently (20%), followed by "pie" (12%) and "cake" (9%). After, "Tsuzuki" no longer listed food items at all, providing receipts instead for items like "drawing pencils," and something Tatsumi was fairly confident was an "Erlenmeyer flask" based on the capital and the relatively lengthy scribble that followed. Finally, he noted that Tsuzuki's beautiful penmanship had deteriorated incredibly during the course of Tatsumi's absence, though he seemed to have finally learnt to transcribe his reports onto official JuOhCho forms.

"In conclusion, this man is not Tsuzuki Asato."

"I hope that didn't take you too long to compile."

"No, Sir."

"Of course he's not Tsuzuki," Konoe says, waving Tatsumi closer and lowering his voice. "There's a project, something high levelwe're not supposed to know about it. Tsuzuki disappeared, this new guy showed up calling himself Tsuzuki-- and Tsuzuki's personnel file had been changed."

"I see. Do you know when...?"

"No, and I don't expect to know. For now, we're supposed to pretend, Tatsumi," and Konoe shrugged at this, "but the new guy's not so bad. He still picks fights with Terazuma, but he wins them so quickly, nothing gets broken." Konoe paused, reaching for the folder on his desk and shuffling the sheets within. "And now, if you don't mind, please send Shin-san back in on your way out."

Tatsumi bowed and left, holding the door for the woman's re-entry as he did so. He found the blond-- Tsuzuki now sitting at his desk in the bullpen in a loose, pale blue shirt instead of his ruined black garment. He was turning a slim gold box tied with ribbon over in his hands. He handed it to Tatsumi, explaining: "internal mail. It was addressed to you, care of me. No return address. No card."

The box contained chocolates, Godiva, his favourite. Tatsumi ran a fingertip over the price sticker still adhered to the bottom of the box, feeling absurdly touched.

"Anyone I should know about?" Tsuzuki asked, glancing curiously at the box.

Belatedly, Tatsumi realised he should offer him a piece and opened the box. Tsuzuki said he didn't have much of a sweet tooth, then realised his mistake and glancing briefly at the legend, took the hazelnut praline seashell. He put it in his mouth, smiling fiercely and, as Tatsumi now recognised, nervously, before he took another open folder from the pile on his desk.

This was going to take some getting used to for both of them.

"Tsuzuki-san..." Tatsumi began.

Tsuzuki's blond head jerked up and he swallowed the chocolate before nodding warily at Tatsumi.

It was unthinkable to leave Tsuzuki to whatever new hell he had been relegated, but Tatsumi would not, could not sacrifice this new partner in the process.

"It's late and we haven't eaten. Would you like to go and get something to eat with me?"

"Sure. Let me--" Tsuzuki looked at Tatsumi curiously for a moment; Tatsumi smiled encouragingly back. And then, Tsuzuki's smile... opened, for want of a better term, and he began quickly sliding all the files, the papers into an open desk drawer. "Just let me lock up my desk."


End file.
